The Gift of Life
by 2kool4skool
Summary: Carlisle's POV of his choice to transform Rosalie. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Twilight. **

_A/N: This is Carlisle's story of his choice to change Rosalie. _

The Gift of Life

I remember the night I found her lying battered, bruised and broken in a pool of light from the street lamp. I hadn't arrived in time to stop what those savages had done to her. As soon as I came around the corner I saw her fiancé give her one last scathing look, before spitting on the pavement right next to her. I am not a violent person and I would never kill a human, but I felt consumed by my bloodlust when I witnessed such a heinous crime against this young woman. A part of me wanted to track them down and take them out one by one for what they did, but instead I knelt down to the barely conscious girl lying in her own blood and tried to save her.

I felt for a pulse, it was there, even if it was very weak. No human would survive this, but I knew I had the opportunity to give her, her life back, even if it was not the life she had before. I considered what I had done for Edward and Esme. Would this girl consider it a favour, or would she be angry for my interference? If I did change her would she forever remember what had happened, and live for months, possibly years, reminded of the shame and devastation that came from rape? I considered my son at home, all alone in this never ending existence. This young woman could bring him to life again, like Esme had done for me. What if they could be happy? Maybe she could love him and he could love her. I looked down at her again; she was absolutely breathtaking as a human. I couldn't just let her die. It was such a waste of life. This beautiful young woman had so much left to experience. I made the decision then, gently lifting her in my arms and carrying her to our home.

Edward must have heard me coming because the doors were open but he and Esme were nowhere in sight to avoid the blood. I laid her down on the bed I shared with my wife and performed the transformation.

She laid in that bed writhing, screaming and cursing me for three days. After I had bit her I cleaned her up so that the blood would not be a bother for Edward or Esme. Esme would come and sit with her, brushing her hair from her face and whispering soothing words that seemed to have no effect. Edward would come in and talk with me, sometimes he'd try and talk to her, but he never really seemed to know what to say and she didn't want to talk to him, or me, or Esme.

I stayed with her for the entire transformation, explaining every detail of what she was and where we all came from. She heard most of what we said, even though she was in agony. Not that she cared too much about any of the details. The only thing she wanted was death. I didn't realize at the time that it wasn't just the escape she wanted from the pain of the venom, but the escape she wanted from life, from her past and her shame.

When the transformation was over and she sat up as a newborn vampire, we took her hunting and helped her learn to control her thirst, and strength. She became stronger and more controlled as the months went on. I was saddened to realize that her relationship with Edward never really warmed into anything more. They tolerated eachother, and developed more as siblings than as lovers. I knew it wasn't meant to be. They would kill eachother had they ever gotten together.

When Rosalie was strong enough she left one day and said she'd be back. Edward had known what she was planning but he didn't share it with me until it was too late for me to stop her. He knew she needed this, and deep down I did too, whether I agreed with it or not. A week later she returned to us, and locked herself in her bedroom for four days. Edward forbade us from bothering her, saying she needed the time to be alone and process what had happened and what she had done. It had nearly killed Esme to avoid that closed door, but upon Edward's insistence we knew it was necessary. He never shared a single thought she had with us; instead he reminded us she would let us know when she was ready to be with us again.

On the fourth day of her self-imposed exile she left her room and came to sit with us in the sitting room. Esme opened her mouth to speak and Edward shook his head no. So we stayed quiet until Rosalie was ready to talk to us. She apologized for being ungrateful, but she wasn't any happier after that. Some days she would just sit and stare out the window. I felt like I had failed, that changing her had been the worst decision I had ever made. She was so bitter, and sad, and broken.

Our lives continued in this way for about two years. One day while Esme and I were making love Edward and Rosalie had disappeared to give us some space. It was hours before either one of them returned. Esme and I were in her garden when Rosalie came running and screaming. The scent of fresh human blood was intoxicating and Esme went running into the woods as I ran to my daughter.

She handed me the human boy and I took him, telling her saving him was impossible. She insisted I change him and when I looked into her eyes I could see in them what was in mine the night I decided to change Esme. This man who was dying in my arms would be exactly what Edward could not. I agreed to do it and she never left his side as he struggled through the inferno. He swore a lot too but it wasn't at anybody. He just happened to be very colourful.

When Emmett had transformed and opened his red eyes to look up at her, I truly saw her tension disappear. He provided her what no one else could. Emmett was playful and charismatic. He brought life to the home, but more importantly he brought life to Rosalie. I did give her, her life back, she just didn't start living it until Emmett was by her side.


End file.
